Frozen: To the End
by Lugubrious DBB
Summary: Two sisters, once separate by fear, found each other again. Then, they learned how to still love each other while going their separate ways. But now, Elsa and Anna must confront an enemy from the past that threatens to destroy the peace they have created together, as well as learn beyond all doubt just how strong their love for each other truly is. A sequel to "Frozen II."
1. Chapter 1: Prelude

**Frozen: To the End**

**Chapter One**

**Prelude**

* * *

_"Promise me something, Elsa."_

_"Anything."_

_"Promise me that, no matter what happens, we will always be sisters. And nothing will ever come between us again. Ever."_

_"I promise, Anna."_

_"To the end?"_

_"To the end . . ."_

* * *

Arendelle at night would be considered, under ordinary circumstances, a sight to behold.

The moonlight glistening upon the surface of the fjord sent a shimmer of luminescence across the 'Delle, reflecting off the buildings that comprised the village like light refracted within a diamond. Indeed, this small kingdom was considered by many neighboring nations, from Weselton to the Southern Isles, the crown jewel of the region. Whispers ran through the streets of neighboring lands regarding the 'Delle's mysteries—whispers that had only multiplied exponentially over the past decade since the king had, without warning, without explanation, sealed his two daughters away from the outside world.

The castle was normally silent at this time of night, interrupted solely by the quiet footsteps of the royal guards as they conducted their midnight rounds, as well as the soft, gentle breathing emanating from the structure's inhabitants, both servant and royal alike. But this night, within one of the royal bedchambers, the silence was broken by a single word.

"Elsa."

The princess stirred at the sound of her name, her ice blue eyes shooting open instantaneously. Roused from her usual restless slumber, the eighteen-year-old turned her gaze toward her bedroom door. Squinting, she brushed a lock of platinum blonde hair from her eyes, eyes that widened in recognition as the last vestiges of sleep melted away. "Father?" she whispered, uncertain.

King Agnarr nodded, stepping forward into the room. His expression was grave, his lined face filled with barely concealed anxiety as he beheld his elder daughter. "Get dressed," he said, his voice calm, yet firm.

It was a command, Elsa noted, not a request. Her brow furrowed as confusion washed over her. "Wh– . . . Why?"

Agnarr sighed, his hands clasped behind his back, a posture he adopted, Elsa knew, only when he was faced with most . . . unpleasant circumstances. "Do as I ask," he said after several tense, quiet moments. "There is somewhere we must go. Something I . . . Something _we _must do."

Elsa's stomach churned at her father's words. _He can't be serious, _she thought to herself. _This . . . This is a dream. It _has _to be! I can't leave the castle! I . . . I just _can't _. . ._

Agnarr's gaze turned to Elsa's clutched hands, his heart heavy. He knew his daughter all-too-well, well enough to recognize that she was terrified at the prospect of leaving the castle that had been her shield from the outside world for the past decade, ever since . . .

A thin layer of frost was beginning to form on the room's walls. Agnarr stepped forward, sitting next to Elsa on the bed. "Control it, Elsa," he said, his voice simultaneously gentle and firm. He reached for the gloves on the bedside table, handing them to his daughter. "You can do this."

Elsa nodded wordlessly, taking the gloves from her father, making certain to avoid all contact with Agnarr's flesh. As she slipped the gloves onto her hands, she closed her eyes, the frost lining the walls receding into nothingness. She opened her eyes once more. "Is Mother coming?" she whispered.

Agnarr shook his head. "No. Nor is Anna. This, Elsa . . ." He paused, his hand moving to his chin, his fingers brushing against the hairs of his mustache. "This is something, I'm afraid, we must do alone."

The princess nodded. Of course, Anna would not be involved; that had been the status quo for the past ten years. It was too dangerous, Elsa knew, for her to interact with her younger sister; the heartbreak and isolation that was her daily experience was her penance for how she had once nearly killed Anna with her damnable curse. But for her _mother_ to be left out . . . A chill ran down Elsa's spine—ironic such a sensation may have been for one as . . . unique as herself—as her mind began to race, to postulate just what could be so secretive, so solemn that her father would—

"Elsa."

Her father's voice jarred Elsa from her thoughts. He was at the door to her room now, looking over his shoulder at her. "Meet me in the stables in ten minutes," he said. "Move quickly and quietly. Tell no one where you are going. Do you understand?"

She nodded, forcing herself to remain calm, to control her emotions as she had trained herself to do, lest she lose control over the curse again. As soon as Agnarr departed, Elsa rose from her bed, quickly changing from her nightgown into a long blue dress and matching jacket. Her hair tied back in its customary tight bun, she opened the door and stepped into the corridor. She moved as lightly and silently as she possibly could, making her way down the stairs to the castle's main entrance. Her hand trembled as she reached for the door, the taste of blood coating her tongue as she realized she was biting her lip. She pulled her hand back, terror and anxiety assaulting her mercilessly as she struggled to will herself to do what she had not done in ten years and leave the castle. From beneath her gloves, she could _feel _the curse trying to manifest itself, the blue and silver light emanating from her fingertips escaping the confines of her gloves, begging for release.

"Conceal it, don't feel it," she whispered to herself. "Conceal it, don't feel it. Conceal. Don't . . . Don't _feel _. . ."

Grimacing, Elsa asserted her will over her terror. Banishing her fear to the depths of her consciousness, she opened the door. Glancing about the moonlit courtyard, satisfied she was alone, the princess made her way to the stables. Her father was waiting for her, his horse already bridled and saddled.

"Quickly," Agnarr said, taking hold of Elsa's still-gloved hand, helping her astride his horse. "We have very little time."

Elsa opened her mouth to inquire just what was happening, just what could possibly be so urgent as to require her to leave the castle, to break the unspoken rule her father had set down years ago mandating she live her life in near total isolation. Agnarr, however, mounted the horse in silence, paying no heed to his daughter's concerns. With a flick of the reins, the horse galloped forth into the night.

As they rode, Elsa clutched her arms around her father's waist. Whatever was happening, wherever they were going, Agnarr clearly had no intention of telling her more than he felt she was necessary. They rode in silence, the moon far above providing the necessary illumination for their journey. The minutes dragged on, and on, and on, and still Agnarr did not speak. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the king addressed his daughter, his gaze still firmly affixed to the path before them.

"You will be queen of Arendelle someday, Elsa."

Elsa strained to hear her father's voice over the sound of the horse's hooves galloping against the ground. She dared not respond. This was something that had rarely been discussed yet long understood between her parents and herself: One way or another, barring unnatural intervention, they _would _die before her, and she, even with the curse the three of them had worked tirelessly over the past decade to keep hidden from the outside world, would become queen of the 'Delle.

"I have tried," the king continued, "to teach you everything I know about ruling a kingdom." He paused, the horse's pace suddenly slowing. "I had hoped," Agnarr continued after what seemed an eternity to Elsa, "the lesson you must learn tonight was one I would never have occasion to teach you." A single, joyless laugh left his lips. "But circumstances, fate, call it what you will, apparently have other ideas . . ."

Before the princess could ask her father for clarity, the small glade in which they had stopped filled with the sound of something—several somethings, in point of fact—rolling toward them. Elsa's grip on Agnarr's waist tightened as the shapes moved closer. "Wait," she whispered, squinting in the dim moonlight, long-forgotten memories suddenly swirling within her mind. "These . . . I've seen these before!"

Agnarr nodded. "That you have, Elsa. Though not for ten years now."

As Agnarr dismounted from the horse, Elsa saw the shapes uncurl themselves. Standing before them now were half a dozen trolls—the same trolls, Elsa realized, she had first seen that terrible night so many years ago when—

"Your Majesty."

Grand Pabbie, leader of the trolls, bowed before the king, his companions mimicking his motion. Raising a hand, Agnarr gestured for them to rise. Standing, Pabbie clasped the king's hand, holding it tight. "I trust, Your Majesty, that you received my message."

"Indeed," Agnarr replied, nodding. He glanced about, his face lined with concern. "Where is he?"

Pabbie gestured toward the deep thicket of trees surrounding the glade. "They are bringing him behind us," he said. "He will be here momen– . . ."

The troll's voice trailed off as his eyes fell upon Elsa, still seated upon her father's horse. "Your Highness!" he exclaimed in astonishment. Surprise gave way to grave worry as Pabbie turned back toward Agnarr. "You . . . You brought her with you? Are you certain that is wise—"

"Please."

Agnarr's gaze was steely, his jaw set. "I already owe you a debt I can never repay for saving my Anna's life. And yes, under ordinary circumstances, I would not have wanted Elsa to have any part in this." He turned to face his daughter. "And yet . . . And yet, she is my heir. Much as I dread to show her this, she must learn that, sometimes, being a ruler means making choices as to who lives . . . and who dies."

Elsa, who had been dismounting the horse as Agnarr was speaking, froze at his words, her breath catching in her throat. Beneath her gloves, the light pulsed once more. _Stop it! _she ordered herself. _Stop it _now—

A rustling sound emanated from the surrounding trees. With a grunt, three large trolls emerged. Two of them clenched several long ropes, ropes that bound the hands of a tall figure, while the third wielded a large broadsword pointed at their captive's back.

Pabbie moved toward them, shaking his head. "What kept you?"

"Him."

The troll with the sword thrust the blade toward the prisoner's throat, stopping it mere inches from his flesh. "We would have been here by now if _someone _would have just cooperated—"

"Do not dare to presume you have any authority over me, troll."

The figure spoke, his voice low, hissing like a serpent. Pabbie's face darkened. "Rather," he said, extending his hand. "Do not presume you have authority over _me_."

The prisoner's face twisted in anguish as Pabbie tightened his hand into a fist, the ancient troll's magic working its will upon the captive man. Satisfied the figure had been reminded of his own powerlessness under his present conditions, Pabbie looked to Agnarr, gesturing toward the captive man. "I believe you and Lord Magnus are already well acquainted, Your Majesty."

Agnarr took hold of Elsa's shoulder. "Stay here, Elsa," he whispered. Turning, he strode forward, until he was less than three feet from the prisoner. "So. We meet again, Magnus."

The captive man tossed his head defiantly, his long, raven hair glistening in the moonlight. "Well met indeed, Your Majesty," he said. "My apologies for my lack of manners. I'd bow before you, of course, but, well . . ." He glared at his captors. "Circumstances being what they are, I'm afraid this must suffice."

Without warning, Magnus spat at Agnarr, his gaze filled with hatred for the monarch. At that impertinent gesture, the troll armed with the sword brought the flat side of the blade forcefully against the back of the captive man's knee. The blow forced Magnus to the ground.

"Lord Magnus!" Pabbie cried out. "You _will _show your king the respect he deserves!"

Calmly, unperturbed, Agnarr wiped the saliva from his brow. "I see your manners have not improved over the years, Magnus. Nor has your temperament, or your lust for power, for that matter. I see my decision to banish you from my council has, sadly, proven all too wise."

At this, Magnus's face darkened, and Elsa swore, even from the distance between her and the prisoner, the malice in his gaze somehow became all the more palpable. "The foolish decision of a boy!" Magnus spat. "Not the considered choice of a king!"

Agnarr shook his head. "You were caught dabbling in the art of the ancient, dark magic," he said. "You should have accepted your exile as the mercy it was and never shown your face near the 'Delle again."

"Mercy?!"

Magnus laughed incredulously. "Mercy?! You dare speak of mercy to me, Agnarr? Do you truly believe it was merciful to leave me friendless, without allies, left to wander these lands alone?"

Agnarr's eyes narrowed. "You brought this on yourself, Magnus," he said. "I gave you the opportunity to repent. You refused—"

"And who are you to command me, Agnarr? Let alone offer me the opportunity for 'repentance'?"

Magnus's face twisted in a sneer of utter contempt. "You are nothing more than the mere boy who returned from his little misadventure in the Forest years ago as king through nothing more than a mere twist of fate." He snorted derisively. "Your father was a man I could respect, a man I could serve with my . . . talents for the glory of the 'Delle. But you?" He laughed mirthlessly, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "Of course. You never _really _knew your father at all, did you, Agnarr?" _Irony of ironies, _Magnus thought to himself. _Runeard, for all his hatred of magic, would most certainly have reconsidered once he saw how my abilities could be used to his advantage, to expand his power. Instead . . ._

Before Agnarr could retort, Magnus peered forward, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What is this I sense?" he murmured. His matted hair glistening in the moonlight, he glared down at Pabbie. "I sense the presence of magic here, troll," he snarled. "But not from you! I sense something far more powerful! Far more dangerous!" His eyes wide, Magnus turned about. "Where is it?! Show yourself!"

Elsa trembled slightly, her gloved hands clenched tight. Hardly daring to breathe, she felt her heart skip a beat as, from across the glade, the prisoner's wild gaze suddenly fell upon her. The confusion on Magnus's face melted away, replaced with shock, which quickly mutated into sudden understanding. A low, bitter laugh emanated from the villain's throat, a laugh that grew louder and louder by the second.

"You truly are a fool, Agnarr!" Magnus whispered, his voice as cold as ice. Elsa shuddered at the sound.

The prisoner shook his head, as if disagreeing with his own assertion. "No. You are worse than a fool, Your Majesty," Magnus continued, his tone mocking. "You are indeed nothing like your father! You judge me for my supposed 'unnatural' and 'evil' abilities, and yet your own daughter—your own _heir_—you allow to live in spite of the power I sense dwelling within her? Does your hypocrisy know no bounds?!" He cocked his head toward the broadsword in the grasp of the troll guarding him. "Were you a man of principle, you would have slain her long ago, just as you intend to have me slain now. I could have at least died with a grudging respect for you then." His cold laugh echoed throughout the glade. "But now . . . Now, it is clear you are nothing more than a coward too weak to do what you know in your heart must be done. You will always be the scared little boy I saw emerge from the Forest the day your father died." His voice became low, too soft for Elsa to hear. "Were your father here, Agnarr, you _know _he would never have allowed anything magical to—"

Elsa cried out in astonishment as Agnarr suddenly roared in rage and struck Magnus in the face with all his might. The prisoner staggered backward, blood flowing from his nose. If Magnus had felt pain, however, he did not show it. Rather, the king's sudden outburst appeared to have pleased him all the more. His joyless laugh returned. "Do you think you can harm me, Agnarr?" Magnus hissed. "I have suffered far worse than a broken nose over the years. Unlike some," the captive snarled, glaring at Pabbie, then back to Elsa once more. "Unlike some, I was not born with the gift of magic. I have spent years upon years studying the ancient texts, refining my skill, learning more through failure after failure than by success. And yet, by my own indomitable will, I have become more powerful than any man in Arendelle!"

Clenching his fists, calming himself, Agnarr shook his head. "And yet, here you are, little more than a prisoner."

"Yes," Magnus conceded. "Let this serve to all who hear of it as a lesson in what happens when you dare let down your guard even for a moment. But know this, Agnarr. When I get out of this, I shall not make the same mistake again."

It was Agnarr's turn to lower his voice. "You assume, Magnus, that you will live to see another day. I offered you mercy once, Magnus. You chose to mock my consideration by continuing to practice your dark arts, to make yourself a threat to the innocents who inhabit my kingdom." He paused, his voice heavy. "Rather, it is _I _that shall not make the same mistake again." He nodded toward the armed troll; the creature responded by forcing the captive to his knees once more. He raised his weapon above Magnus's head. Agnarr regarded the prisoner, his gaze unflinching. "This ends now, I'm afraid."

"No!"

Elsa stood between Agnarr and Magnus now, her eyes filled with disbelief as she gazed upon her father.

"Elsa, get back!" Agnarr ordered. "Get away from him! You do not know what he is capable of—"

"Maybe not," Elsa replied. "But Father, is this . . ." She gestured about, her face filled with anxiety. "Is _this _what we stand for as people of Arendelle? Do we kill men in cold blood without a trial? Is . . . Is this justice?" Her gaze pleaded silently with Agnarr, her voice little more than a whisper. "You can't tell me the good man who taught me all he knows about ruling a kingdom would ever consider this!"

Behind her, Elsa could hear Magnus's cold laugh once more. "Your daughter is wise beyond her years, Agnarr," he said. "Perhaps you should listen to her—"

"Silence!"

Agnarr's voice rang throughout the glade. Elsa shrank back involuntarily. The expression upon her father's face was one she had seen only once before. It was the same expression of rage mixed with terror she had seen Agnarr display the night she had almost killed her sister.

"I am doing this to protect innocent lives!" Agnarr insisted, his voice nearly as cold as Magnus's now. "You do not know him, Elsa. There is nothing in this world powerful enough to contain him. Look at Grand Pabbie!"

Elsa turned toward the ancient troll, her stomach churning once more as she beheld the strain evident upon the wizened being's face.

Agnarr continued, his eyes wide with exhaustion, with stress. "He cannot contain Magnus's magic forever, Elsa. No cell can hold him! What would you have me do? Let him continue to roam free as he has all these years, growing stronger by the day, knowing it is only a matter of time before he unleashes his might against our kingdom? Against your mother? Against _Anna_?! No!"

The king took hold of Elsa's gloved hand, squeezing it tightly. "Sometimes, a king must condone evil for the benefit of the greater good. You _must _understand, Elsa! If I had any other choice, I . . ."

Elsa refused to meet his gaze. "There is _always _a choice, Father. Sometimes we . . . Sometimes we are just too blind to see what it is." Her moist eyes met her father's at long last. "Or did you lie to me all those times you said that to me over the years?"

"Do not judge your father too harshly, Your Highness," Magnus said, his voice smooth with false empathy. "Like I said, his own hypocrisy is on full display for all who choose to see . . ."

A terrible thought crossed Elsa's mind. Her hands trembling, she swallowed. "Is . . . Is what he said true?"

Agnarr shook his head. "I told you, Elsa, do not listen to him! He—"

"Would you have done it?!"

Elsa was shouting now, she realized, and yet she did not care. "Would you have killed me as an infant had you known then what . . ." She felt the curse tug at her fingertips beneath her gloves once more, desperately this time, as if begging her for release. _Conceal! Conceal! _"If you would have known I was magical?"

Agnarr did not answer, and yet, his silence was all the answer Elsa needed. She was breathing heavily now, she realized, her entire body quaking. As if from across an endless chasm, she heard her father's, Pabbie's, and Magnus's voices all speaking at the same time, but the words were indistinct, a sonic blur in her mind. Staggering about, overwhelmed, she pressed her hand against a nearby tree to steady herself, only then realizing that somehow, someway, her glove had fallen off her hand—or perhaps she had removed it herself, she had no idea. All she knew in that moment was that she was losing control, that the power inside her practically screamed to be released, and in her heightened emotional state, she was no longer capable of containing it.

She screamed in terror as the tree beneath her fingers was suddenly coated in layer upon layer of thick, heavy ice. Stepping backward, she pressed her hands to her ears, shutting her eyes tightly. The voices of the men and trolls in the glade were louder now, but she still could not make sense of them. All she knew was she wanted it all—the terror, the self-hatred, the fear of being different—to go away, to leave her alone, to let her go back to being alone in her bedroom once more, when—

"_Stop!"_

Pandemonium filled the glade as ice, snow, and arctic wind erupted from the princess's being. Agnarr, Pabbie, and the other trolls dove for cover as blue and silver light swirled about uncontrollably. One tree, entirely encased in ice, uprooted itself, the sheer weight from the frozen water bringing it crashing down around them.

In the chaos, Magnus seized his chance. With a cry, he leaped over the fallen tree, disappearing into the forest as the light continued to wreak havoc all around him. As he ran, something heavy, something frigid struck him in the chest. Screaming in agony, he continued his flight, disappearing into the night, far away from the wintry hell Elsa had involuntarily unleashed.

"Elsa! Elsa, look at me! _Look at me!_"

Opening her eyes, Elsa saw Agnarr standing before her, his hands firmly clamped upon her shoulders. "Calm!" Agnarr said, his gaze firmly locked upon his daughter's terrified countenance. "Breathe, Elsa! Breathe!"

The princess nodded, rational thought slowly returning to her as she forced herself to regain control of her emotions. The blue and silver light swirling about the glade dissipated, the chaos over almost as soon as it had begun.

Elsa stared at her hands, a horrified expression upon her face. "I . . . I . . ." The next thing she knew, she was sobbing, her head buried in her hands. Wordlessly, Agnarr took her into his grasp, wrapping his arms around her, allowing his daughter to bury her face in his shoulder. "It's all right," Agnarr whispered, stroking Elsa's hair. "It's all right . . ."

As Elsa wept, the king locked eyes with Pabbie, man and troll both sharing the same grim expression. Each turned their gaze toward the thicket, at a loss at how to deal with the unexpected turn of events.

_Elsa, _Agnarr thought to himself as he consoled his daughter. _Elsa, just what have you done . . .?_

* * *

"Do you have to go?"

Agnarr turned, inhaling slowly. Elsa stood before him at the foot of the stairs, her gloved hands clutched tightly about one another.

"You know I do," the king replied. "It's only for two weeks, Elsa. You and Anna will be fine."

Elsa grimaced, too ashamed to meet her father's gaze. "We both know that's not true. Not after . . . Not after what happened . . ."

Agnarr sighed. It had been three weeks since the incident in the glade. He had assigned his best men to the task, but so far, no sign of Magnus had been found. It was as if, the king considered, an unpleasant sensation washing over him, the dark magician had simply vanished into nothingness. They had been fortunate, Agnarr knew, to have captured him before. Now, however, he had no doubt Magnus would make good on his word and fail to provide them with a similar opportunity again.

"Elsa, look at me."

The princess stared at her father, her gaze filled with misery.

"It wasn't your fault," Agnarr said. "It was mine. You weren't ready. I never should have brought you there. I asked you to witness something you never should have seen. To approve of something that goes against everything I have taught you, everything our people stand for."

Elsa shook her head. "I was weak. I see that now. I never should have—"

"Yes, you should have."

Agnarr's voice was firm as he stroked his daughter's chin. "You kept me from doing something I never should have even contemplated. You proved your worthiness to rule our people beyond all doubt, Elsa. Your compassion, your concern for others . . . Those will serve you well when you are finally queen."

"Then why . . ."

Elsa's lip trembled. "Why do I feel so _terrible_?"

Agnarr smiled. "It will pass, Elsa. Trust me. Your mother and I will see you and your sister again in two weeks. I promise."

The king kissed his daughter on the brow one last time before turning and exiting the castle. Not stopping for a moment, not looking behind him, he made his way to his ship, his hands clasped in the small of his back.

"What did you tell her?"

Iduna looked at him as he boarded the ship. The king exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "What she needed to hear."

The queen nodded, tears forming at the edge of her eyes. "Why did you bring her in the first place?"

"I don't know, Iduna," Agnarr admitted, resting his hands on the deck's railing. "I honestly don't know." Wordlessly, he accepted the drink from the servant who handed it to him, downing the alcohol in a single swallow. "And the worst part is . . . Deep down, I . . ." He turned to face his wife, his own shame washing over him. "I fear Magnus may have been right after all. That I _would _have . . . God forgive me, I actually have considered it in my darkest moments over the years and . . ."

Iduna gasped both in horror at her husband's revelation and in surprise as the king turned away and furiously hurled his glass into the waters of the fjord. Nothing was said between the two of them for a long, long time. Finally, as the crew finished their final preparations for the voyage, Agnarr looked at Iduna again.

"I have made so many mistakes with her . . . with both our girls over the years," he whispered. "This voyage . . ."

He grasped his queen's hand, squeezing it firmly. "This curse of Elsa's must be broken. For the good of the 'Delle. For the good of our people. For her _own_ good. I swear, Iduna, we _will _find away to free her from her magic. Or . . ."

Iduna shuddered, already knowing the answer to the question she was about to ask. "Or what?"

Agnarr's eyes filled with determination. "Or we will die trying . . ."

* * *

**AN: My hope is that this story serves as a possible, fitting conclusion to the thematic contour created by _Frozen_ and _Frozen II_. And while I know Disney would never produce a story like this, I hope it does justice to the world that Chris Buck and Jennifer Lee have created. More to come.**


	2. Chapter 2: Holiday

**Frozen: To the End**

**Chapter Two**

**"Holiday"**

**Fourteen years later . . .**

Queen Anna was content.

The monarch lay in her bed, eyes shut, breathing slowly, dreamily savoring the sensation of the pillow of soft down against her head, the warmth of her blanket as it enfolded her. A slight smile tugged at her lips as the warm rays of the rising sun broke through the window, bathing her slumbering form in golden light. She laughed in her sleep, dreams mingling with memories of a time not that long ago, a face wreathed in platinum blonde hair smiling back at her, beckoning her to join her as—

"Happy Mother's Day!"

Anna's slumber came to a most abrupt end as three embodiments of boundless energy suddenly landed upon her. A most unroyal _"Oooomph!" _flew from her lips as the wind was forcibly removed from her lungs. The queen had never been one to wake from sleep at the drop of a hat, and so she flailed about, eyes opening blearily, a look of dazed confusion etched upon her face.

"Mama! Mama! Get up! Get up! We gots a surprise-ed for you!"

Anna blinked several times, her heart rate finally returning to normal. "Wh– . . . What's all this, sweetnesses?"

Karina glared at her younger sister. "Why'd you have to wake Mama up like that, Bridgette? It's her special day, after all."

The three-year-old pouted at her sister, her sandy blonde hair swaying back and forth as she shook her head. "It wasn't me!" she protested as she folded her arms. She pointed at her eight-year-old brother indignantly. "_He _started-ed it!"

"Did not!" Lothar looked from Bridgette back to his twin sister, an expression of angelic innocence etched on his face.

"Don't lie, Lothar!" Bridgette retorted. "It's a sin-en-nen to lie!"

"I didn't do anything!" Lothar protested, grabbing hold of Bridgette's hand. "_You're _the one who ran in here and—"

"'Cause you told-ed me to!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did—"

"Children!"

The three children fell silent as their father entered the room. He looked at them in stunned silence, then turned to his wife, a mortified expression on his face. "I am so sorry!" he said. "They were supposed to wait until you woke up on your own." He turned to Bridgette, frowning. "But apparently _someone _couldn't wait . . ."

"It was my fault, Father," Karina said, glancing toward her now-miserable younger sister. "I was supposed to keep Bridgette with me. I turned away for just a second and . . ."

Her father nodded. "I see." He ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "Well, you know what this means, don't you?"

The next thing Anna knew, her husband launched himself on the bed next to her. Squeals of delight flew from Bridgette's throat as the man tickled his daughter mercilessly. With a growl, he wrapped his arms around Karina and Lothar, holding all three of his children tight in his embrace, squeezing them in spite of their protests. "The bear is going to get you! The bear is going to . . ."

His voice trailed off as he beheld his wife's still-confused stare. Clearing his throat, he stood. "I mean, Happy Mother's Day, honey!"

Anna blinked, finally awake enough to comprehend what was happening. "That's not a thing, Kristoff."

"I know," her husband said. He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "But it should be. I mean, you do so much for the kids, and for the kingdom, that we . . ." He leaned forward. "_I _thought you deserved a special day in honor of it." He shrugged again. "Early May seemed like as good a time of year as ever."

"Aw."

Anna blushed as she wrapped her arms around her children. "That's so sweet of you!" She looked up at Kristoff. "All of you!"

"Ooh! Ooh!"

Lothar leaped from Anna's grasp, running toward the door. "We almost forgot the surprise! Here!"

The boy opened the door dramatically. A reindeer entered the room, a tray of food perched carefully within his jaws.

"Blueberry pancakes, Mama!" Bridgette exclaimed, practically bouncing up and down. "And lots of syrup! Just the way you likes-ed it!"

Anna smiled, her stomach suddenly growling loudly. "They look delicious!" She kissed her children on the cheek. "I am going to eat these right now!"

She took the tray from the reindeer, patting him on the head. "Good boy, Sven."

"You're welcome, Anna," "Sven" said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Kristoff's.

The queen brought a forkful of pancake to her lips, taking a bite. "Wow. These . . . These are delicious!" She looked about the room. "Who made these?"

"I did," Karina said, a hint of pride evident in her voice.

"Ahem."

The girl rolled her eyes. "All right. Lothar helped. A little."

"A little?!"

Lothar shoved his twin sister in the shoulder. "I got the eggs, remember? _And_ the milk!"

"You asked Kai to get them for you," Karina retorted.

"Which is practically the same thing!" Lothar insisted. "And Gerda actually _made _them, you know."

"I stirred the blueberries in!"

"Oh, wow, _that's _a lot of work on your part," Lothar muttered. "You're a real—OW!"

The boy winced in pain as his sister twisted his arm behind his back. "Take it back, Lothar!"

"Nev—OW! OW! All right! Fine! You'rethebestcookintheworldandyoushouldhaveyourownrestaurant! There, you happy?"

Anna took another bite of pancake as she watched the twins bicker. She glanced at Kristoff. "It gets easier as they get older, right?"

The royal ice master shrugged. "I wouldn't know. When I was their age, I was fending for myself in the mountains. I don't exactly have a lot of experience in this department." He walked over to the still-arguing children. "Guys. _Guys. _Let's not ruin your mama's special day, all right?"

"Yes, Father," Karina and Lothar replied, immediately sticking their tongues out at one another the moment Kristoff turned back to Anna.

Anna wiped her lips with the napkin on her tray. "Well, I am absolutely stuffed!" she exclaimed. "Thank you so much for the surprise."

Kristoff took the tray from the bed, placing it back in Sven's jaws. "Why don't you take the three of them outside to play for a bit, buddy?" he asked the reindeer. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Okay," "Sven" replied. "But don't do anything I wouldn't do, all right?"

Kristoff shot the reindeer an expression of mock horror. "Never!" He walked to the door, opening it. "All right, you three. You heard Sven. Go play outside for a while."

"Yay!"

Bridgette skipped to the door, elated. "Come on, guys!" She gestured wildly for her siblings to follow. Lothar, Karina, and Sven exited the room. As Kristoff closed the door, Bridgette's voice echoed down the corridor. "It's so neat that Sven sounds just like Papa . . .!"

"So . . ."

Kristoff turned to Anna. "Did you like it? You can say 'no' if you didn't. And I'm sorry they just barged in on you like that! I—"

The queen laughed. "Of course I liked it!"

"Really?"

Kristoff looked at Anna expectantly. "You're not just saying that because they're our kids, are you? Because if you _didn't _like it, just let me know and I'll—"

"Kristoff Bjorgman!"

Anna wrapped her arms around her husband's shoulders, planting a kiss delicately on his lips. "What has gotten into you today?"

Kristoff sighed. "Nothing."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "I know that sigh. You're upset about something. Tell me." Her tone softened. "Please?"

"It's just . . ."

Kristoff wiggled from his wife's embrace, his hands thrust into his trouser pockets. He began to pace about the room. "It's just . . . I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Anna frowned. "What does _that _mean?" A horrifying thought crossed her mind. "Ohmygosh! It's me, isn't it? You're upset because I haven't been paying enough attention to you! I'm sorry, I really am! It's just that, with spring finally coming, there's been a lot on my plate to worry about! First the fjord levels have been rising higher than they have before, and then the winds have been all wonky lately, which makes it hard for our trade partners to get here and—"

She broke off as Kristoff laughed. "What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing," her husband replied. "It's not you. Not you at all. It never could be. I mean, look at how great things have been since you became queen. I haven't seen the 'Delle this prosperous and peaceful in a long time."

Anna walked toward him, pulling the soft jacket she wore over her nightgown tighter. "Then what is it?"

"I just . . . I just don't feel like I have a purpose," Kristoff admitted. "You're the queen, but what am I? I'm just your royal consort. I don't have any real authority. Nothing to keep me busy. We have more than enough ice harvesters, so I'm not needed for that. I can't make any official sort of decisions. We have servants for everything. Hell, there's someone who cleans my boots every night just so I don't have to!"

The queen frowned. "How long have you felt like this, Kristoff?"

Her husband turned away, glancing out the window. "Not that long. It wasn't so bad when we were first married. Considering it didn't take long for us to have the twins, I didn't really have time to think about it much. And then Bridgette came along, and so she kept me pretty busy. But now . . . Now, I'm getting older and I guess . . ."

He turned back toward Anna. "I've spent most of my life alone. Well, with just Sven, at least. I'm used to doing everything myself and being self-sufficient. Now . . ." He looked down at his hands. "Now, I don't have anyone who really _needs _me."

"Excuse me, Mr. Bjorgman!"

Anna took hold of Kristoff's hands, pulling him close to her. "I can think of at least one person here in this room who needs you, thank you very much."

"You know what I mean."

"I do," Anna said. "But I also know that I can't do this without you. Okay, so maybe you don't have any 'official' authority under our laws. But you know I never make an important decision without discussing it with you first. We're a team, Kristoff. You and me."

Kristoff looked at his wife for several silent moments, the corner of his lip turning upward ever-so-slightly. "Thanks, honey. That . . . That really means a lot."

"And it was so sweet of you," Anna continued, moving toward the bed, "to make up a special day just for me. 'Mother's Day' . . ." She reached up to her auburn hair, carefully undoing the ties holding it in place, allowing it to fall freely around her shoulders. "That has a nice ring to it. I hope it does catch on, after all."

"You like it?"

A mischievous grin formed on Anna's face. "Well, Mr. Bjorgman," she said, standing as regally as she could, removing the jacket over her nightgown. "That remains to be seen. Your queen requires something of you right now. Only after you have performed this task will I be able to judge accurately whether or not this holiday you've invented has been successful."

Kristoff nodded, taking the hint. "I see," he said, slowly walking toward the bed, removing the vest he wore over his tunic. "And this task you require, Your Majesty," he said, bowing before his wife. "Is it . . . difficult?"

"Very."

"Dangerous?"

Anna's mischievous grin grew wider as she climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets up around her shoulders. "Possibly."

"Enjoyable?"

"Oh, most _certainly _. . ."

Kristoff was next her in an instant, his hand on the shoulder of her nightgown. "I'll have to think about it," he said, slowly pulling his wife's arm free of her clothing. "I never embark on any task without fully studying it beforehand."

Anna disappeared beneath the blankets. "Then what are you waiting for, Mr. Bjorgman?" she asked sensuously—

Kristoff nearly jumped out of his skin as the bedroom door burst open. Anna shrieked from beneath the blankets.

"Yes, I think that will be an _excellent _idea!"

A familiar giggle filled the air. The ice master turned toward the source of the sound in disbelief. "Olaf?! What are you doing here?"

The living snowman looked up at him, eyes wide, innocent. "Excellent question! And yet, I could ask the same of you. What are_ any_ of us doing here, for that matter?" The snowman walked to the vase on the night table, his wooden fingers brushing against the soft petals of the slightly wilted flowers. "How precious and fragile is our own mortality, Kristoff," he said. He retrieved a fallen petal from the table. "One moment we live, the next . . ." He crushed the petal dramatically. "We die!"

Kristoff's eye twitched. "Are we spending a little too much time in the library again? You know there are other books in there besides ones on philosophy—"

Olaf's giggle filled the room again. "Oh, silly Kristoff. The correct usage is 'you,' not 'we.' As in . . ." His voice deepened into what his own ears was a perfectly accurate imitation of Kristoff's voice, but in reality was simply his own voice an octave lower. "'Olaf, are _you _spending a little too much time in the library again?'" He giggled. "I apologize. I know it's not easy to have to live with such a learned scholar as me—"

_"Anyway . . ."_

Kristoff cleared his throat, hoping to shoo the snowman away. "What exactly are you doing here? I'm kind of . . . busy . . ."

"Really?" Olaf cocked his head, confused. "It looks like you're trying to sleep in your clothes. Ooh! Is that a thing now?"

"No!" Kristoff exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation.

"Oh." The snowman shrugged, nonplussed. "No matter." He placed an unlit pipe he had found in a storage closet several weeks ago in his mouth, adopting what he considered a studious expression. "I hypothesize it will be all the rage within the decade. Which reminds me . . . Where's Anna?"

Kristoff decided against trying to follow that twisted trail of logic and allow Olaf to change the subject. "She's . . . She's . . . Um . . ."

"I'm right here, Olaf!"

Olaf shrieked with delight at the sound of the queen's voice. With a leap, he bounded onto the bed, landing directly on Kristoff's stomach. "Hi, Anna!" he said, peering at the mound of blankets on the bed. "What are you doing under there?"

"Looking for something," Kristoff interjected, reaching for the snowman, only for Olaf to the other side of the bed. "Her, um, her—"

"Earrings? Necklace? Favorite dress?"

Kristoff stared at Olaf. "Um . . . yeah?"

"Really?" Olaf puffed his unlit pipe, his brow furrowed in thought. "I guess I'm really _not _as learned as I thought. I would have looked for those things in a jewelry box. Or the closet." He reached for the edge of the covers, trying to peer under them. "But I guess that's why _you're _the queen and I'm not—"

"Okay, Olaf."

Kristoff had finally managed to grab hold of the snowman. He rose from the bed, carrying Olaf to the door. "Can you do me a favor and go conduct a little research project for me?"

Olaf's eyes practically lit up. "Ooh! A _research project_?!" An awed gasp emanated from his throat.

"Uh, yes," Kristoff said. "I need you to go study, um, uh . . ." He snapped his fingers, a thought occurring to him. "I need you to observe Lothar, Katrina, and Bridgette as they play outside."

"Go on." Olaf nodded, his eyes growing wider.

"I need you to, um, write down everything they do and, uh, how much time they spend doing it," Kristoff continued.

"Go on."

Kristoff stared at the snowman blankly. "I . . . There really isn't anything more. But it's for Anna. She needs the research. And remember how I told you today is her 'Mother's Day'?"

Olaf snorted as he laughed. "Aw, that's so adorable of you, inventing a brand-new holiday just for her. I wonder if it will catch on—"

Kristoff ignored him. "And it would _really _be helpful if you would spend at least an hour or so doing it, okay?"

"Say no more!"

Olaf stood, his face set in an expression of pure determination. "I won't let you down, Anna!" he called over his shoulder as he exited the room. As he made his way down the corridor, a thought occurred to him. "Of course, this would be so much easier if I knew how to _write_—"

Kristoff shut the bedroom door, leaning against it. He sighed heavily. "I. Am. So. Sorry about that."

"It's not his fault," Anna said, poking her head out from under the covers. "It's just Olaf being . . . Olaf."

"Which is adorable and all except for his timing," Kristoff muttered under his breath. He glanced at the wilting flowers on the bedside table. "Yeah, that's kind of how this day is going so far right there, isn't it?"

"Are you kidding?" Anna smiled widely. "Breakfast in bed. Snuggles from my babies. This has been a _great _day so far!"

"Glad you're enjoying it," Kristoff responded. He exhaled slowly. "Well, I suppose that's my cue to go check up on the kids. Hopefully Olaf won't cause too much damage by the time I get there—"

"Excuse me, Mr. Bjorgman."

Anna was sitting up on the bed, her arms folded across her chest, her right arm free from the nightgown's constraints, the fabric dangling oh-so-deliberately beneath her bosom. "You still owe me a task, remember?"

Kristoff looked at her in disbelief. "Really? I mean, after _that_, you still want to—"

Anna disappeared under the covers again. "Your queen commands you."

Kristoff looked on in amazement as Anna's hand appeared from under the blanket. With a flick of her wrist, the nightgown went flying across the room. "Just lock the door and get under here."

A loud _click _echoed about the room. Seconds later, Anna was joined by her husband. "It would be rude, after all, to refuse Your Majesty's request."

"You'd better believe it would be, Mr. Bjorgman," Anna said, her hands moving toward the belt on Kristoff's waist. "You'd better believe it . . ."

* * *

**AN: More to come!**


	3. Chapter 3: Intruder

**Frozen: To the End**

**Chapter Three**

**Intruder**

"I just don't understand it!"

Anna rubbed her eyes, her brow creased with concern. She was seated upon the throne of the castle's audience hall, as was her habit on days when matters of serious import to the 'Delle were under consideration. She was not particularly fond of such formalities, as she herself well knew; nevertheless, she understood the importance of tradition, of upholding what had been passed down to her, especially since—

"Neither do any of us, Your Majesty."

Kai exhaled slowly, his arms folded as he concluded his report. Manservant though he was, he had long been the eyes and ears of the royal family outside the walls of the castle, first out of necessity when the king—God rest his soul—had all but sealed himself and his family away from the outside world, but now out of both force of habit and mutual trust. "Believe me, none of this makes sense. What we are experiencing should be impossible! And yet . . ."

Anna turned to Kristoff seated at her right hand. "How can this be happening, Kristoff? How do the winds just stop altogether? How do the waters of the fjord recede just like _that_?" She threw up her hands. "I mean, it's one thing for the winds to change, but to stop completely? At this time of year?"

She turned back to Kai. "You're absolutely certain what you saw, Kai?"

The manservant shook his head. "I wish it were not so, Majesty. But I saw the water level recede with my own eyes. One moment, the waters were where they should be. The next . . ."

Anna turned to her left. "What do you think, General?"

General Mattias did not respond for several moments, his eyes closed, deep in thought. When he opened his eyes, his expression was anything but reassuring. "I fear, Your Majesty, my opinion is of little worth in matters such as these. My soldiers . . ." He gestured toward the six armed men in the room, each taking a different station in order to ensure Anna's safety. "My soldiers can fight any enemy we can see and attack. But we cannot fight nature itself . . . no matter how much I wish we could."

"Anna."

Kristoff's voice was quiet, yet firm. "Anna, it might be time for us to see if maybe we can get some answers from—"

Anna cut him off, her eyes suddenly flashing with anger as she realized what he was recommending. "Out of the question!" She shook her head at her husband. "Why would you even mention that? After what _she_ did?!"

Her husband folded his arms, exasperated. "Look, I get it. I really do. But we have to consider all our options, don't we?" He braced himself, knowing what he was about to say was very, very ill-advised for the health of his marriage. "Don't you think it's time to just . . . I don't know, get over it and—"

If looks could kill, Kristoff would have dropped dead on the spot from the fury radiating from Anna's eyes. "If you suggest what you're suggesting one more time, so help me, you're going to spend the next month sleeping in the stables with Sven. Because my bed will most certainly _not _be an option!"

Kai and Mattias glanced awkwardly at one another, not wanting the situation at hand to devolve into a marital squabble between their queen and her consort. To their dismay, Kristoff refused to back down. "What happened to what you were saying earlier? You know, the whole 'We're a team, Kristoff, and I never make any important decisions without you' thing?"

Kai and Mattias backed away involuntarily. The audience hall was now as silent as a long forgotten tomb.

Anna stood angrily, too flustered to form a coherent sentence. "That was . . . I mean . . . It's not the same . . . I . . ." She turned to Kristoff, her anger fading away, replaced with an expression of melancholy, of longing. "I _want _to, Kristoff. But she made it crystal clear she never wants to see me again. Ever."

Kristoff rose, wrapping his arm around his wife's waist. "Knowing her," he said, choosing his words carefully. "I find it hard to believe 'never' really means _never_."

Anna shook her head. "You weren't there, Kristoff. You didn't hear what she said." She closed her eyes, memories swirling within her mind. "How she _said _it."

Kristoff sighed. "I know. Believe me, I know. You've never told me just what she said. But that was the most upset I've ever seen you before when you came inside after . . ." He squeezed his wife's shoulder with his other hand. "Look. I'm just some guy from the mountains and all, but I _do _know that what you and Elsa have is a closeness I've never seen before. And I also know that Elsa is stubborn. Just like someone else I know—"

"Hey!"

Kristoff brushed aside his wife's objection. "Whatever Elsa said to you, she has to believe there's a reason she had to say that to you. A damn good reason, as a matter of fact. I'm not saying she's right. I'm just saying _she _believes it."

Anna closed her eyes. "It's been three years, Kristoff. Three _years_!"

Kristoff delicately cupped her chin, his fingers brushing against the smoothness of her cheek. "Then let's not make it four. It wouldn't hurt just to try to talk to her and ask if she can help, would it? What's the worst she could say?"

Anna pulled away from Kristoff, a thousand possible answers to her husband's question racing through her mind, each one terrible in its own way—_I don't love you anymore, Anna!_ _I'm so happy living in the Forest, Anna, that I don't need you anymore! I'm finally free of you, Anna! Don't spoil it!_ Silently, she stood before the tall window on the wall behind the throne, taking in the expanse of the fjord beyond the confines of stone and glass. With a long sigh, she turned to face the three men. "You're right," she admitted, a thin smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "What was I thinking? I've never listened to her before when she's told me to give up on her. Why should I start now?"

Clearing her throat, the queen stepped down from the throne level to stand before Kai and Mattias, her long dress of shimmering emerald trailing behind her. "All right," she said, gesturing for Kristoff to join her. "Here is what I have decided—"

Before Anna could elaborate, a loud _bang _echoed throughout the castle. "What the hell?" Kristoff muttered, his brow lined with confusion.

The four listened intently, hardly daring to breathe. Several moments passed without incident. Just as the quartet were beginning to relax, the _banging _sound returned, louder, more frequent in reappearance.

Anna, Kristoff, and Kai looked at Mattias expectantly. "Please," Kai said, slowly. "Tell me you have some sort of training exercise scheduled for today that involves your men scurrying about the castle!"

Mattias's expression offered no such reassurance. "I wish I could," he murmured. "I wish I—"

A loud explosion echoed from beyond the doorway of the audience hall. The entire castle seemed to shudder and quake. The sound of screams emanated from beyond the door of the hall. "That's no training exercise," Anna whispered, her heart suddenly beating furiously within her breast.

In a flash, Mattias and the soldiers were at the door, swords drawn. "Barricade the entryway!" the general shouted. "Protect Her Majesty at all costs!"

As Mattias and his men set to work moving furniture, shelving, anything heavy they could find in front of the door, Anna could feel the blood drain from her face. "Kristoff," she whispered, gripping his arm tightly. "The children—"

The sounds from the corridor suddenly ceased. Kristoff and Kai looked at one another, then toward the far end of the hall. Mattias met their gaze, his entire body stiff, his ears listening for any possible indication of just what was taking place beyond the door.

"Hold your positions," Mattias whispered, his blade pointed at the wood of the door, the soldiers copying his pose. "Steady. Steady—"

Anna did not know precisely what happened next. One moment, Mattias and his men were standing at the ready before the barricaded door. The next, the door was no more, replaced instead by fragments and splinters of wood cascading every which way around the audience hall as a deafening eruption filled the air. The force of the whatever-it-was that had destroyed the door sent Mattias and his men flying through the air, their weapons scattering uselessly about the hall as they collided with the hard floor.

Coughing, sputtering from the clouds of dust that now filled the air, making it all but impossible to see, Anna realized she was pinned to the floor. Something heavy was holding her down, keeping her from rising. "Get . . . Get off me—"

"Anna. _Shut up!_"

Kristoff's voice was little more than a whisper in her ear, yet the tone of his voice sent chills down her spine. She could sense something in her husband's voice she had never heard from him before—sheer, unadulterated terror.

For once, Anna did not protest as Kristoff quickly dragged her across the room. He shoved her under the desk in the corner where the official stenographer would sit during formal meetings of state, documenting the proceedings. "Whatever happens," he whispered as he made certain she was safely hidden from view. "No matter what, you stay hidden until it's safe. Got it?"

The queen shook her head as she realized the implications of Kristoff's words. "Are you _kidding_ me?! Absolutely—"

"Do it!" Kristoff hissed. Unable to kiss Anna without smashing his forehead against the edge of the desk, he squeezed her hand tightly instead, hoping against hope that single gesture could communicate everything he wanted to say but circumstance forced him to leave unspoken. In a flash, he was gone, back to where he had been standing moments earlier.

The clouds of dust were fading now, Kristoff noted. He and Kai exchanged a worried glance as, through the dissipating fog, they could see a tall figure standing in the remains of the doorway. Slowly, methodically, the figure strode into the assembly hall. Kristoff tried to make out the man's features, but the clouds were still too thick when—

A loud groan of pain filled the air. At the sound, the intruder froze, looking downward. Deliberately, almost reptilian in his mannerisms, the man lifted the figure of General Mattias from the ground with one arm, holding the dazed officer before him.

"Well, well. Do my eyes deceive me?"

The man's voice was low pitched, snakelike. A joyless laugh escaped his lips as he leaned forward toward his captive. "Lieutenant Mattias. Back at last from your sojourn in the North Forest." He cocked his head, his eyes fixated upon the insignia upon Mattias's uniform. "I stand corrected. It's _General _Mattias now. Congratulations on your promotion." He brought Mattias's face directly before his own. "Although considering how laughably easy it was for me to enter this castle, it would seem the standards for Arendelle's combat readiness have slipped considerably under your command. Pity."

Before the barely conscious Mattias could muster a retort, the intruder dropped him to the floor. Again, he moved forward through the fading clouds of dust. "Ah. It feels so good to be home after all these years."

The dust finally faded away, allowing Kristoff to see just what it was that stood before him. The mountain man felt his heart skip a beat as he beheld the sight. The man before him was tall, his long black hair flowing about the pale flesh of his face. A long strand of hair whiter than snow dangled before his features, a single ray of light in a field of obsidian darkness.

But it was the man's face that caused Kristoff's stomach to churn in apprehension. Beneath the pale skin of the assailant's gaunt features, Kristoff could see his veins as they crisscrossed his face, dark blue in color. The man's eyes were a familiar shade of blue—a shade of blue, Kristoff realized, he had only beheld on one other person before.

The intruder seemed almost annoyed with Kristoff and Kai's presence. Towering over them, he sneered, his yellowing teeth on full display momentarily. "You. Where is the Snow Queen?"

It was several seconds before Kristoff realized the man had actually spoken. "Ex– . . . Excuse me?" Kristoff responded. _What the hell.__ Playing dumb isn't the _worst _strategy at the moment. Not exactly the _best_, but—_

The assailant's mirthless laugh rang out again. "Are you deaf, man, or just blisteringly ignorant?" he queried, shaking his head. "Perhaps I wasn't clear."

The intruder held up his hand and closed his eyes. The veins in his face began to throb, to _glow _even as, while Kristoff and Kai watched in astonishment, silver and blue light began to emanate from his fingertips. _It can't!_ Kristoff thought to himself. _Oh, hell no—_

"I demand an audience with the Snow Queen of the 'Delle!" the intruder announced. He leaned forward, sneering once more. "Inform her that Lord Magnus has a score to settle with her. _Now_ . . ."

* * *

**AN: My apologies for how long it has taken me to update. Between work and graduate classes and family health issues, my writing time has been much more limited than I would like. I did enjoy writing this chapter, not only because it sets up the plot elements for the next chapter, but because it allowed me to give Anna some insecurities that in my previous writings are largely reserved for Elsa. More to come!**


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